


The Tale of Team Free Will

by shinigami_yumi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Asexual Relationship, Body Horror, Cameos, Canon-Typical Violence, Complete, Established Relationship, Heian Period, History - Freeform, Horror, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Occult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3315326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_yumi/pseuds/shinigami_yumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com">Supernatural Reverse Bang</a> 2014:</p><p>Sam and Dean are Onmyouji in Heian Era Japan, Castiel their friend who can See the supernatural. When an earthquake strikes the ancient capital, Dean rushes to the palace only to become trapped along with the rest of its inhabitants by Yamata no Orochi, an eight-headed serpent that should be long slain. It's a race against time for Sam and Cas to find a solution before Dean and the Emperor are devoured by the monster, but these are dangerous times, and even the gods aren't very inclined to help.</p><p><a href="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/tkodami/30597386/9324/9324_original.png">The fabulous prompt</a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/TKodami/">TKodami</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Team Free Will

**Author's Note:**

> I attempted to write this as if it were an English translation of a period piece, and The Tale of the Heike was an amazing piece of stylistic inspiration. I hope I mostly succeeded and that you will enjoy this story.
> 
> A zillion thanks to my beta and old friend, [Meinarch](http://meinarch.tumblr.com), for beta-reading despite illness. Let me know if you find any errors we missed.
> 
> Also many thanks to [TKodami](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TKodami/) for the inspiring prompt. I hope this lived up to your expectations. The full art post can be found [here](http://tkodami.livejournal.com/4871.html).
> 
> Last but not least, a big thank you to the mods at [Supernatural Reverse Bang](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com) for running this fantastic challenge. I'm terribly sorry late fic is late.

  
**超常幻紀: 自由意志隊物語**   
**A Fictional Chronicle of Supernatural: The Tale of Team Free Will**   


_**Dramatis Personae:** _  
_Sam Winchester as Abe no Seizan_  
 _Dean Winchester as Abe no Seijin_  
 _Castiel as Minamoto no Yoshikazu_  
 _Michael as Hakuo no Michiage_  
 _Kevin Tran as Fujiwara no Kagetora_  
 _Lisa Braeden as Risao_  
 _...along with a host of cameos for you to discover._

  
_The path of the sun mirrors heaven’s eternity_   
_The path of the clouds echoes this world’s impermanence_   
_In Samsara, even kings suffer calamity_   
_Eightfold cuts the Serpent’s vengeance_   


In the ninth month of the 385th year of Heian, the air, as ever, feels akin to steam, and although Abe no Seizan and Minamoto no Yoshikazu forewent all but the strictly necessary clothing in their hurry, their skin is uncomfortably damp beneath their juban. Still, the mist wafting out of the flooded ruins winds its eerily cold tendrils around them where they stand anxiously before the entrance to the Imperial City, looking in. [1]

Through the thick, gloomy mist, what little they can see is a mess of collapsed buildings and water-filled chasms splitting the earth in many places. Scouts report the cracks run all the way to Lake Biwa, hence the water, but the source of the ominous mist remains a mystery. Parts of the surrounding walls have turned to rubble, but despite the various points of entry now, none of those who entered to escort the Imperial Family to safety have returned.

It is unthinkable that the Son of Heaven should be unable to escape this desolation.

“This is an unprecedented calamity.”

Seizan turns to see a group conversing among themselves as they approach, led by the Head of the Jingi-kan, his hoeki no hou a little the worse for wear. Quickly, Seizan bows, and Yoshikazu follows suit. “Lord Jingi-haku,” they greet as one. [2]

The others they don’t recognize, but are ostensibly newer appointees to the Jingi-kan and hang back to give their conversation privacy. The distance doesn’t, however, make their wary glances at Yoshikazu any more subtle. Whether it’s his blue eyes or the string of beads tucked into his hakama, there’s no denying Yoshikazu is unusual, but he’s still a fifth ranked Genji, so they won’t be untoward, at least.

“Above all, it is good to see you well,” Yoshikazu adds, paying them no mind. Believing him sired by some kind of spirit, his own family exiled him to the mountain temples after his mother passed away when he was very young, so he’s accustomed to the stares, to the ostracization. “Please accept our apologies for our less than presentable state as we were anxious to reach here quickly.”

They’re only wearing their kosode and hakama, hardly a state to be seen by other nobles in, but they haven’t had a spare moment to worry about dressing all morning, not even to slip on at least a noushi. They’d even skipped an eboshi, and while Yoshikazu’s dark hair hasn’t grown much since he last shaved it, Seizan’s is a brown shoulder-length mess. They were woken as the hour of the Tiger begun by a great earthquake, but while Seizan’s brother, Seijin, had hurried out to investigate as soon as the last tremors ceased, Seizan and Yoshikazu had been busy making sure none of the more dangerous items they kept for their work had been compromised. [3]

“Gengoi Nyuudou, Abe Onmyounosuke,” Hakuo no Michiage returns the greeting stiffly, inclining his head towards them. “The office of the Jingi-kan is situated at the very edge of the Imperial City, so we were fortuitously able to escape when the walls crumbled, but we ran into few others as we climbed over the rubble to safety, and I must assume that many less fortunate remain trapped within.” Michiage shakes his head, gazing into the mist. “What news of the Mikado?” [4]

It is Seizan’s turn to shake his head now, and the Jingi-haku’s expression turns graver.

“And your brother, the Onmyounokami, what is he doing?” [5]

"My brother, too, entered the Imperial City and has yet to return."

Seijin ran out in the hour of the Rabbit. Now, in the hour of the Snake, there is still no sign of him, and Seizan could only conclude that his brother must have entered the ruins. [6]

"We were just talking about going in ourselves," he adds quickly. The last thing he needs is the boss thinking they’re not doing their jobs.

“We… Jin told us to wait for his report, but enough time has passed that we must consider the possibility that he is trapped inside as well.”

Seizan hides a sigh of relief and nods. Yoshikazu is a terrible liar, and playing along is hardly his forte either. Fortunately, he doesn’t contradict what Seizan said.

“We can do nothing without more information, so we have no choice but to investigate,” he continues. “However, it also won’t help if we all end up trapped inside, so we must proceed with great caution.”

“Rescuing the Mikado should be your topmost priority,” Michiage says sternly.

“With all due respect, Lord Jingi-haku, if everyone that can help becomes trapped inside, there will soon be no one left to rescue the Mikado,” Yoshikazu ripostes calmly.

The new members balk, and Seizan quickly racks his mind for a change of subject. “Perhaps people are simply having trouble finding their way out with all the mist and rubble.” He fishes out a roll of blessed string and ties one end to one of the pillars by the entrance. “This way, we’ll be able to find our way back here. Excuse us.” He pulls Yoshikazu away from Michiage towards the entrance.

For a moment, Michiage looks as if he wants to put Yoshikazu in his place, but then he seems to think better of it. Instead, he turns away and says, “Very well. We will be praying for your success.”

Seizan doesn’t wait to hear any more than that, leading Yoshikazu with him into the ruins. It seems darker almost as soon as they step into the compound, and the thick mist reduces their visibility to a single shaku. They tread carefully, in small steps, around or over the cracks, leaving a trail of string behind. It smells dank, stale despite the brief time the water has been here. Up ahead, the fissure is too wide for them to cross and go straight in, so they turn right, hoping to circle around, but rubble blocks the path between buildings, and they’re about to turn around when Yoshikazu nearly trips over something. [7]

“Kazu!” Seizan takes the other’s hand to steady him, then gasps.

It’s a human arm sticking out from under the rubble, now that they’re near enough to see.

“That certainly accounts for some of the missing,” Kazu says, lacing their fingers.

They met when Kazu helped the brothers with a hunt near the temple he lived in six years ago. Some spirits haranguing the nearby villages escaped into the forest, and they gave chase, but the creatures only started attacking after the spell that made them visible wore off, and Seizan didn’t have the time to cast it anew. Lending credence to his rumoured supernatural origins, Kazu had Sight, so when he happened upon the battle as he was walking through the forest, he pointed out the spirits to them and saved their lives. Seijin may have initially agreed to bring him along because he’s useful for their work, but Seizan… Seizan could empathize. When he first suggested studying law instead of onmyoudo, his father, Seijou, very nearly disowned him, after all. In all fairness, though, the study of law promised meagre career prospects these days unless one were Fujiwara, Genji or Taira.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Seizan mutters, leading Yoshikazu into one of the buildings to find another way around. The Imperial City isn’t really the sort of place you wander around exploring, so Seizan has never been inside any building besides the Jingi-kan. This one is collapsed in some places, but it looks traversable for now.

“It shouldn’t be so cold at this time of the year, Zan.” Kazu leads him precariously around a hole in the floor. “Mist this thick isn’t natural.”

Chuckling, Zan replies, “That’s why we’re here, right? You don’t call onmyouji in for repair works.”

To their right, a part of the roof has caved in, taking several shouji with it. In the room beyond, a lacquered screen painted in the style of the nearby Song Empire remains upright, nary a scratch on it despite the surrounding disorder. Covered in real gold leaf, it is probably the most valuable item in the building, most likely a gift from visiting emissaries. They're walking past it when Kazu whirls. [8]

"Zan, look out!"

When he turns, Kazu has grabbed a hold of something in the air. Reflexively, he blocks upwards, miraculously hitting it. As Kazu struggles to pull it away from him, it materializes — a translucent crystalline blue serpent. When it tries to strike him again, he grabs it by the neck to stop it.

"A mizuchi?" They're water spirits, and they aren't generally violent. "There must be many of them to be creating this much mist." That could also be why none of those who entered have returned — mizuchi can also create mirages. Many of them are probably wandering around in circles, lost.

"Something is drawing them here," Kazu says with effort. It's stronger than they expected. "Can't you feel that oppressive presence?"

"Yeah. Can you...?" He glances at Kazu.

"Yes."

In a quick motion, he reaches into his sleeve for an ofuda just as Kazu pulls the mizuchi back sharply. He slaps it onto the spirit, and it bursts into flame. As the serpent reels, Kazu seizes the opening to draw his tantou and cut its head off. Zan sighs in relief as the spirit dissipates. [9]

“There’ll be more of them.” He draws his tachi, then takes several more ofuda out and hands a few to Kazu. “Here, take some of these.”

Their fingers brush as Kazu takes the charms, and it’s warm in the damp chill clinging to their skin.

“Thank you. I’ll keep an eye out.”

That reminds Zan that he dropped the roll of string in the scuffle. He’s about to panic when he spots it close by his feet. Shoulders sagging in relief, he picks it up. They keep going, this time with Kazu in front, weapons at the ready. Zan can’t help feeling a little nervous. Jin has always had the better battle instinct between them, a knack for fighting effectively, even when he can’t see the enemy. And if Jin hasn’t made it out…

“Zan.”

He looks in the direction Kazu is pointing: more corpses — some trapped under rubble, some caught in fissures, some who appear to have drowned and some a gory mess with some missing parts.

“They look like they’ve been mauled,” he muses, uneasy. Mizuchi don’t maul humans though; they’re probably responsible for the drownings.

“By something a lot bigger than a mizuchi,” Kazu confirms grimly, glancing at the wall behind them. There’s a motif painted on it, a design with gold leaf distinctly reminiscent of the Song Empire’s style from before. “But more importantly, this isn’t the first time I’m seeing these.”

Now that he mentions it, Zan realizes it’s true. He remembers seeing them, he thinks, just from further away earlier. He thought they’d died from being struck by the rubble, but close up now, the tearing of jaws is obvious. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling out another set of ofuda — they’re already caught in a mirage.

He sends one flying out in all four directions, and there’s a resonance as they hit their target. The mist seems to lighten, and the stone wall behind him disintegrates. Suddenly, they are standing before the Imperial Residence.

“Let’s go,” Kazu says, entering. “We’re getting close. We should mask our presence.”

He nods, focusing. They drop their aura levels to zero before continuing through the Palace. Collapsed in places, waterlogged in others, it’s surprisingly hard to imagine the splendour of these gilded halls from only yesterday. The oppressive feeling in the air grows stronger as Kazu leads them forward. A few more mizuchi harry them, but they’re prepared this time, so the serpents are easily dispatched. To their surprise, the mist lightens up as they near the main audience hall.

There’s a loud hiss, then Kazu presses him to the wooden wall with a finger to his lips. He indicates to Zan to wait, then edges closer to the corner to peek around. Blue eyes widen, then he steps back, shaking his head. Zan steps around him to see for himself, but Kazu grabs his hand meaningfully and presses a finger to his lips again, shaking his head empathically. He nods, a promise, then looks around the corner.

Zan silences a gasp, pressing himself back against the wall in horror.

A part of the audience hall and one of the antechambers has collapsed into the garden, and there, by the pond, a serpent with eight heads occupies the entire antechamber, half the garden and a quarter of the audience hall. He hasn’t seen any monsters this massive in his lifetime. He remembers this one, too, from the lore he read growing up.

I—It’s impossible.

Yamata no Orochi.

It should have been slain in Antiquity, a time when the gods still roamed the earth freely and were more than mere memorials at the shrines and sacred sites in Izumo. But here it is, surrounded by the terrified survivors of the earthquake as it messily devours a man, hissing hungrily. From the colour of the clothing scraps falling from its jaws, that was a member of the Imperial family. He peers around the corner again.

“Ah,” Orochi hisses, one head speaking after another, each continuing with a few words. “It’sss faint, but there’sss no missstake. If I devour hisss entire bloodline, will Sssusssano-o come himssself? Pitiful human, as you journey towardsss Yomi, cry out my invitation at the placcce of hisss birth!” [10]

One of the heads snatches up another person from the crowd, a woman this time.

“Hey, dirt-crawler!”

 _Oh no,_ Zan thinks. _No, no, no._ He knows that voice.

“If you’ve got a bone to pick with Susano-o, y—”

“Sssilence, human!” Three heads swing to where Jin is being held down by a few mizuchi. A forked tongue snakes out to lick his face, and both brothers wince as susurrant horror washes over the crowd. “You who are more akin to usss than the ressst of them, your turn will come. But firssst, woman, I sssee you look jussst like one of thossse deliccciousss eight sssissstersss…” [11]

_Shit._

Zan reaches for an ofuda, but Kazu grabs his wrist firmly and pulls him back, shaking his head slowly. He opens his mouth to protest, but blue eyes are disapproving as Kazu mouths, “You promised.” He relents, letting Kazu lead him further away from the audience hall, out of earshot.

“We need to rescue them,” he says as soon as the other stops. “There won’t be anyone left at this rate if we wait. H—”

“We are _not_ equipped to fight Orochi,” Kazu ripostes sternly. “Zan, I understand. Your brother is in there too. But if you run in now, it’ll only get us all killed, and that won’t help anyone.”

Kazu is right. Zan knows it. “We need a plan,” he concedes.

“Yes.” The other finally lets go of his hand, and he misses the contact.

“All right.” He takes a deep breath. “All right. Time for research.”

The hour of the Horse is ending by the time Zan and Kazu make it back to the entrance. Heian-kyo is in an uproar, and crowds gather in clusters around people spreading news and doomsayers alike. The temples are packed, and despite all the people out and about, a dismal air chokes the usually vibrant capital. To prevent widespread panic, they avoid questions and report directly to the Jingi-haku at his nearby residence. Hakuo no Michiage receives them in his study in the north wing and presents some equally unsettling news — a fellow onmyouji and Jingi-kan official, Ashiya Hirazane, has been found dead in his home, surrounded by eight aides within a magic circle. [12]

“That certainly explains things,” Zan mutters as they hurry back to the Abe residence.

“I don’t like how he treats you, Zan.”

Despite the palpable disdain at the lack of a rescue, Michiage recognized the wisdom of not charging in unprepared and merely told them to make haste.

“So you’ve said every other day before this.”

Kazu frowns. “He couldn’t make it any clearer that he doesn’t deem you fit to walk the same earth that he does, yet he expects you to do whatever he wishes. And it’s not as if he could do what you do.”

“Well,” Zan chuckles, ducking his head. “He _is_ the boss.”

His companion sighs. “Kabeage would have been easier to work with, if only…”

Michiage’s youngest brother was sent as an envoy to the Kingdom of Goryeo a few years ago. Fellow envoys reported he refused to return, and no word has been heard from him since. [13]

They enter the house, removing their sandals, before heading straight for the west wing library.

“You’re back early,” greets a tanned youth, looking up from the scroll he’s reading. “Where’s Jin?”

Fujiwara no Kagetora lives just down the road, but he often sneaks over here to study for the Shuusai exam because he says he can’t get any peace in his own house. In a previous century, his efforts would have been greatly esteemed. Fortunately, being a Fujiwara, he’ll get a good court appointment anyway, and his scholarship will make him a better official, so no one is really complaining. [14]

“Stuck in the palace,” Zan replies absently, scanning the shelf for anything relevant. “With Orochi.”

Kagetora drops the scroll. “As in Yamata no Orochi? The one in the Kojiki?” [15]

“Yes.” Kazu scans another shelf across the room. “The same one Susano-o slew to save Kushinada-hime, it would seem.”

“Wait a minute.” Zan whirls around. “That’s it! Let’s summon Susano-o.”

“ _No_ ,” the others reply firmly at once.

“Why not? He’s the only one we know who’s killed that thing, and those are his descendants in there about to be devoured. Orochi is spoiling for a rematch anyway. Let’s give it to them.”

“You do realize he ran into Orochi in the first place because he was thrown out of Takamagahara for running amok and causing so much destruction and chaos that his own sister went into hiding out of grief?” Kagetora reminds him, raising an eyebrow. [16]

“Susano-o would destroy first and ask questions later,” Kazu agrees, never a pause in his search — he’s even moved on to the next shelf. “We won’t survive long enough to explain our circumstances.”

Zan slumps and turns back to the shelves of scrolls. “Research it is.”

Hours later, after bringing them dinner, Kagetora has gone to bathe while they continue poring over every scroll of lore they have that even mentions Orochi. Thus far, they’ve had no luck finding alternatives to Susano-o and his sword, the Totsuka no Tsurugi.

“You should eat,” Kazu chides quietly, sitting down beside Zan and offering him his untouched bowl of soup. “At least a little.”

Zan takes it, sighing, “I know.”

It’s hard to have an appetite through his growing anxiety, however. Even the Zen garden they’re facing offers no respite. He can’t stop thinking about Orochi saying that Jin will be next. With every passing minute, the possibility that Jin’s turn has come increases, and Zan can’t bear the thought that he might really fail to save the brother that raised him after both their parents passed away. He’s always been better at the more scholarly aspects of their field — divination, astrology, studying the lore and making calendars. Jin is the one people call for all the flashy jobs like exorcisms, rituals and monster hunts. Zan’s work sees a lot more application in the people’s lives, of course, but what good is any of that if it can’t save those who matter?

Kazu doesn’t say any more, just wraps an arm around Zan’s waist and resumes reading the scroll he was working on. Zan finishes the soup and pulls Kazu close, so Kazu’s head rests on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Kagetora says, head poking out from behind the shouji. “Wow, you still haven’t eaten? And they say I’m bad. You won’t be of any help to anyone if you keel over before you find a solution.”

“Thanks, Kebin.” Zan forces a smile. “I’ll get to it.”

Before receiving the name Kagetora at his genpuku three years ago, Kebimaru was his childhood name, and the nickname stuck, at least with Zan and Jin. [17]

“Anyway, there’s a Shirabyoushi by the name of Risao at the door asking for Jin…?” [18]

“Oh. Uh… Yes, she’s been here before.”

Kagetora very rarely stays this late, so of course he wouldn’t know of Jin’s tendency to invite female company home. Speaking of Jin though… what could Zan tell her?

Seeing his indecision, Kazu says, “Please tell Lady Risao that Jin was unexpectedly stuck working tonight and will send for her again another day.”

As Kagetora departs to do just that, he pulls the tray of food over and presses the chopsticks and the bowl of rice into Zan’s hands.

“Kazu—”

“Do you remember the time I lost this?” He runs his finger along the string of blue magatama beads around his waist. It belonged to his mother, the only keepsake he has to remember her by. “It was a cold day. First, it rained; then, it snowed. And we searched everywhere, even through the rain and wind, until I collapsed. When I woke, I wished to resume the search, although I was too ill to even have any appetite, and you said—”

“—if you don’t eat, how will you have the strength to keep searching?” Zan finishes with him, smiling wryly. “I know, I know.”

He nods and returns to reading with his head resting on Zan’s shoulder as the onmyouji finally eats his dinner. Back then, Kazu hadn’t had the strength to keep searching. He fell unconscious soon after whatever little he managed to swallow. It had begun to snow as he ate, and he despaired of ever finding it. The next morning, he woke with a cool towel over his brow for his fever and the string of magatama coiled in his hand. Zan was in the futon next to his, similarly taken ill, and he knew at once that Zan had searched through the snow the night before.

“I’m grateful you found it.”

He’d been fond of Zan before, but in that moment, it seemed affection and gratitude filled his heart to bursting, and it wasn’t the congestion in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

Zan ducks his head and laughs sheepishly. “I’m glad even I could be of help.”

“Even—” Kazu doesn’t know whether it’s the sort of childhood Zan had, or the years living in his illustrious brother’s shadow, or the constant belittling of the other aristocrats that makes such a wonderful person think so little of himself. “Don’t devalue yourself,” he reprimands the other sternly, frowning. It is bad enough that he has to put up with Michiage’s constant condescension.

Zan is about to reply when Kagetora returns, an eyebrow raised in judgment. “She says, and I quote, if my lord has tired of me, please tell him to speak frankly. It is a far crueler fate not knowing whether I should come again.”

He laughs, a touch deprecating. “It would seem she is aware that she is one of a long string of performers, courtesans and other female company that has come and gone from this house.” It seems different this time though — Jin appears to have some genuine affection for Risao. Zan hasn’t seen his brother look at a woman like that since his failed courtship of Kashihime several years ago. “Well, tell Lady Risao not to be disheartened. My brother thinks the only real music is roei, so he most assuredly has not summoned her so often for her skill at imayo. He will surely send for her when he returns.” [19]

 _When,_ he reminds himself again, _not if._

His face must have fallen, for Kagetora’s expression softens with sympathy. “Zan, get some rest. Jin is fine. The rising sun will bring new inspiration.”

Zan smiles, grateful. “Thanks.” He hopes it’s true. “Wait. The rising sun. That’s it!” He sits up, olive eyes alight. It’s a shame, he thinks, that Kagetora won’t take up onmyoudo. He has a talent for divination to match the best of them.

Kagetora pauses midstep. “What is?” he and Kazu ask in unison.

“The sun! We know how to summon Amaterasu Oomikami, don’t we? Maybe she can intercede with her brother on our behalf. The Imperial Family are her descendants too.”

Blue eyes widen, and Kazu immediately begins searching through the open scrolls around them. “Yes,” he murmurs. “That could work. Tenshou-daijin is known for her benevolence.” [20]

Kagetora grins. “See? Well, I’d best not keep the lady waiting.” He heads back to the front door.

“Here it is.” Kazu brings the scroll closer, so Zan can read it with him.

The onmyouji leans closer. “It says…”

“Well, that’s… troublesome,” Kazu muses, expression clouding.

“It says we need the Yata no Kagami, the Yasakani no Magatama and the Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi for the ritual. Aren’t those the Three Sacred Treasures of the Imperial Regalia?”

Kazu sighs, slumping a little. “Yes. And only the Mikado knows where they are.”

Anxiously, Zan sends out three hastily penned letters, hoping the seal of the Department of Onmyou affords this correspondence some urgency. As advised by Kazu and Kebin, he has written to the heads of the Fujiwara, Taira and Genji clans. Being descended from former members of the Imperial Family themselves, it is possible they know something. He hopes they are good leads and that they will respond swiftly. They have little time to spare.

Every minute that passes increases the likelihood that Jin has been devoured by Orochi.

“I wonder,” he muses, heading back inside towards the bathroom with Kazu at his side, “if it’s possible to bypass the Chigaeshi no Ookami.” [21]

Kazu whirls to grab him by the shoulders. “No. Don’t even _think_ about it. You know as well as I do that the dead should stay dead. And Jin is fine. I’m sure of it.”

Zan sighs, leaning into the touch. “I wish I had your confidence.”

It’s not confidence — he _has_ to believe. This isn’t mere idle pondering. Whatever laws governed the universe, Zan would break them all to save his brother, and Jin would do the same if their positions were reversed. If Jin really were dead, Zan would let nothing stop him from prying his brother out of the cold, dark clutches of Yomi, not even Izanami no Mikoto, and no good could come of that.

The servants have prepared the bath, and steam is rising from the water as Zan and Kazu disrobe. Stepping in, they sit down side by side and sigh, closing their eyes as the warm water seems to melt their weariness away. Kazu leans into Zan, resting his head on the taller man’s broad shoulder, and Zan wraps an arm around Kazu’s waist, lets soft black hair pillow his jaw. Kazu loves this, just sitting or lying in Zan’s arms like now. It’s comforting, fills him with such peaceful contentment. But Lady Risao’s visit has resurfaced old anxieties, and now… now he wonders if this is the wrong time to ask.

For a long time, Kazu worried Zan might share his brother’s proclivities, but as time passed and Zan continued to show no interest in anything of the sort, he’d started sitting closer, initiating more contact, spending more time together. He remembers the first time they held hands with such vivid clarity: They were hunting a witch at the time, people were dying from hexes left, right and centre, and when he covered Zan’s hands in reassurance, the other just laced their fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. He was so happy right then that he forgot whatever he’d planned to say. Then, months later, Zan hugged him for the first time under the rain because they only had one umbrella, and for all he cared, it could have started hailing instead.

But then, he started worrying if Zan would want something more, something else.

Maybe he would want what Jin seemed to want so regularly with women, but with men instead.

With him.

But Zan never did anything more than hug him, even when they shared futons, so that passed.

And then he’d forgotten himself last year's spring when Zan took him to the gardens to see the flowers in bloom and kissed the other, then spent the entire week worrying if he’d somehow given Zan the wrong idea. But again, Zan never tried to do anything more than that —cuddles and a few chaste kisses here and there, even when they bathed or slept together— so he’d just let things lie and continued as usual.

But what if Zan is just waiting for him to be ready? What if he’d like to someday, eventually, even if it’s far off in the future? What if Zan will get tired of waiting?

Maybe Lady Risao is right — it is crueler not knowing what to expect.

“Zan?”

“Hm?”

“Do you… Um… Would you uh… like to have sex?”

Zan shifts back to look at him, confused. “What? As in right now? With you?”

“Yes. No. I mean, not now. Or well, not… As in… In general?” he tries lamely.

He’s not being terribly eloquent, he realizes, and he forgets to breathe, heart pounding in his ears, when Zan seems to consider it. He’s not even sure if Zan’s thinking about the right question now, let alone if he wants to hear the answer. Maybe it’ll ruin things between them, and he doesn’t… he doesn’t want that at all.

“Well, I’m actually quite happy as we are, but yes, if it’s with you, I think I’d rather like to.” Zan ducks his head, already flushed skin turning a shade redder. “I mean, if you’d like to. With me.”

“Oh.” Kazu looks down, heart sinking. But it’s crueler, he tells himself again, and forces himself to continue. “I thought you knew that I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, with anyone. Ever. Not just you,” he clarifies hurriedly. Not that he thinks it’ll make a difference if that were a necessary component of a relationship for them, but the last thing Zan needs is another blow to his self-worth. "And not because of the Way either. I just—" [22]

“Then let’s stay as we are.”

Kazu blinks. “R—really?”

Zan shrugs. “Like I said, I’m happy as we are. I thought you were asking because you wanted to.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ “So…” He feels the smile threaten to split his face as he closes the distance between them. “You’ll stay with me, just like this, forever?”

“Well…” Zan chuckles, rubbing their noses together. “I don’t know about forever. I’m pretty sure you’re going to the Pure Land while I’m headed for Yomi.” [23]

Kazu scoffs, pecking the other on the lips happily. “As if I’d ever go to the Pure Land without you.”

Something wakes Kazu, but he remains still, listening.

It’s the dead of night, only a soft glow of moonlight filtering in to frame the shadows, and he can’t place what’s not right. Beside him, Zan lies deep asleep, so it can’t be anything paranormal.

_There!_

Suddenly, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, and he's rolling into an attack with his tantou even as the shadow drops silently to the floor. The petite, black-clad figure parries with a kunai and leaps back as Zan wakes with a jump.

"Who sent you?" Kazu demands, angling his body protectively between Zan and the intruder.

"I bring a message from Chancellor Taira." The soft voice sounds distinctly feminine despite being muffled by the black mask. "He wishes to stress that you take this information to your graves, or you will pay the price of high treason."

The Chancellor probably means their entire clans would be executed if they breathe a word of this even to a ghost.

She hands them a sealed letter. "Burn it well."

Then she's off into the night, neither presence nor sound detectable, and Zan rips the letter open before Kazu can even light a candle to read it by. There are only three words on the paper inside: Ise, Atsuta and Palace.

"The shrines," Kazu realizes.

Zan turns to him. "You think that's where they are?"

"It would make sense," he muses, tossing the letter onto the coals in the hearth. "They're holy relics, after all." More hushed now, he wonders, "Can we trust Chancellor Taira though?"

Zan glances sharply at him — that’s the sort of talk that gets families beheaded these days. "I'm sure he likes the status quo. If anyone is looking for an opportunity, it'd be those who want change."

Change... That would imply it's his own clan they can't trust. No one resents the Heike's power more than the Genji, and instability in the Imperial Court could be just the chance they need to rebel. There are royalty outside the Palace with a claim to the throne they could support too. Well, truth be told, there’s little love lost between him and his clan — they've all but disowned him already anyway.

"Then we ride in the morning." He snuffs out the candle.

They are about to mount the horses when another two letters arrive, this time from the Fujiwara and the Genji, each delivered by the hand of a young clansman. The Fujiwara send a letter within a letter, the message being simply to give the enclosed letter to the High Priestess of Amaterasu, a member of the Imperial Family herself, at the Ise Grand Shrine if they face any problems. The head of the Genji clan says he only knows that the Yasakani no Magatama lies hidden in an altar within the Imperial Residence because his ancestors and relatives have seen it there before.

Kazu burns both messages as soon as they have been read, and Zan gazes thoughtfully at the letter for the high priestess. “We should split up,” he says quietly when Kazu returns. “Each of these is several days away. We don’t have the time to make both trips together.”

Blue eyes fall to the letter in his hands. Kazu will agree that this is best, of course, even if they don’t like it. He wishes it were possible to visit both places in an instant.

“I’ll go to Ise then,” the other says as expected, taking the letter. “They will most likely have received the news by now. You should go to Atsuta personally and explain the situation. They would listen to the Onmyounosuke.”

He nods. The road to Ise is well-travelled and fairly safe, but he worries still, of course. And he’ll miss Kazu’s constant presence by his side for so many years now. “Take care of yourself?”

It’s Kazu that steps forward for the hug, that invites the kiss and whispers that everything will be fine, and Zan doesn’t know whom he’s more afraid for. He checks their bows and supplies, trying to avoid treacherous thoughts.

Maybe it’s already too late.

It feels wrong just looking at his brother’s black stallion resting in the stable, but he can’t bear to ride it either. It’s Jin’s.

“When this is over, shall we all go to Byoudou-in together?” Kazu asks softly, running his fingers through long brown hair. “Jin can take Lady Risao for walks by the Uji River, perhaps. I hear it’s beautiful in the fall.”

When, not if.

“Yeah,” Zan says, smiling. When Kazu says it, it’s easier to believe. “Let’s.”

“Deliciousss…” hisses Orochi, a forked tongue flicking out to lick his cheek. “Tell usss, you who are more like usss than any other, why do you serve thessse treacherousss creaturesss? They lie, they betray, they look down on you, do they not?”

“They’re not all like that,” he snaps, struggling against the serpent’s hold.

“Mere self-serving deedsss,” a head scoffs dismissively. “At leassst we are honessst,” says another. “We would never lie to you,” a few of them murmur, nuzzling him.

"There are many ways to deceive, Orochi,” he ripostes with a snarl. “Now return my brother."

The snake’s response is susurrant laughter. “Not even the almighty Izanagi could bring the dead out of Yomi. You are arrogant to think anyone can, human. But…” The heads slither around him in a caress. “Make usss a pact, human, and we can guide you passst the Chigaessshi no Ookami. You who ssstill live, you may come and go asss you pleassse. Lend usss your ssstrength, and we will ssshow you how. Sssay yesss, and you can sssee your brother again.”

“Never!” he answers fiercely, struggling harder. “I’d never say yes to you! I won’t fall for your lies!”

“Oh… You will…” The heads speak in turn, constricting around him. “Abe no Ssseizzzan… You are like usss… We promissse… No liesss with you… Deliciousss… You will…”

The last words seem to echo all around, but before he can yell that they’re wrong, all eight heads unhinge their jaws wide open and dart forward to swallow. He expects to be ripped to pieces, but instead, he’s sliding down one slippery channel, being crushed by the constricting cold darkness. Choking on the inky blackness, he feels suffocation setting in, but then he’s free-falling suddenly. It feels like hay when he lands, smells familiar — it’s the barn. And although he can’t see anything, he remembers the scent from all the days he spent there learning how to groom the horses from Jin.

“Sanmaru! There you are!” Jin’s voice cuts loudly through the darkness, and his brother is there — visible and solid, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet. [24]

“Jin!” He shakes his brother by the shoulders a little, too relieved to even protest the use of his childhood name. "What are you doing here, man? C'mon, Kazu’s waiting. Let's go home."

"I can't, Zan. Go on without me."

"What?" He stares incredulously. "D—"

"What took you so long?" Before his eyes, maggots burst out of Jin’s fair skin. “And now you've seen me like this." His deep voice turns raspy, even as his flesh rots away. “Now I can never leave."

"No!" Zan shakes his head. The putrefaction sticks to his hands, the maggots crawl up his skin, his eyes sting, and he can’t breathe. “No."

"Why did you come, Zan? Why didn't you come sooner?"

"I tried, Jin, I—"

"Why didn't you come sooner?" Jin is bare bones now, crumbling to dust.

“Jin, no! No, no, no. Jin! JIIIN!!!" he screams, blinking at... shouji.

He's sitting up on his futon, gasping for breath. It's the inn he stopped at to rest his horse for the night. He runs his hands through his hair, tries to slow his breathing. The customers in the nearby rooms will be disgruntled about being woken like this. It's completely dark still. Gripped by newfound urgency, he feels compelled to leave, to hurry back. But his horse needs the rest, and it’d only take up more time if he had to find a new horse midway because he pushed his too hard. He’d learned that the hard way en route to the shrine. This is no time to be irrational. He flops back down and closes his eyes, gripping the ancient sword under the covers by his side.

Jin will be fine, he tells himself.

There’s a spell that masks one’s presence. And maybe Orochi eats slowly, like snakes tend to. After all, he only ate one of Kushinada-hime’s sisters each year, right?

Jin will be fine.

Kazu doesn’t think he’s ever been more relieved to see Zan than the moment the younger man rode into the compound. He’d returned to an empty house the day before and been anxious ever since.

Zan leaps off the horse into his arms, and he feels solid and warm, smells of the earth and the forest he’s ridden through — real. He’s enveloped in a tight hug, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

Then, “You have it?” Zan asks, a slightly breathless whisper in his ear.

“Yes,” he answers, settling back into the somberness of their situation. “It’s inside.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Wait.” He grabs Zan by the elbow to stop him. “Don’t you need to purify yourself for the ritual?”

“Shit.” He turns to head back into the house. “Yeah.”

He bathes, does the purification ritual, and comes back out to the courtyard to find that Kazu has prepared everything else they will need. “We’re missing one more thing,” Kazu says grimly.

Or almost everything else.

“What is it?”

“A medium,” says a female voice from behind.

They turn as one and immediately drop to their knees. It’s Nii-no-Ama, official wife of Chancellor Taira, mother of the Empress and soon to be grandmother of the Emperor — rumour has it the current Emperor would soon be abdicating in favour of his infant son, Prince Tokihito. She has an entourage of guards and servants behind her with a palanquin, and Zan still can’t fathom how the ladies of the court haven’t steamed to death under all those layers in the summer heat. Even with the white veil she wears to obscure her face, she is clearly recognizable by her colours and crests. There is a dignified air about her, and though her voice sounds younger than her years, Kazu is fairly certain not even the reigning Empress speaks with that kind of chutzpah.

“Yes, my lady,” he answers, keeping his eyes down. There is no point in asking how she knows — the Taira know everything that goes on in the capital.

She tilts her head. “Abe Onmyounosuke Seizan, Gengoi Nyuudou Yoshikazu. You must be quite good archers,” she remarks, and Zan frowns, puzzled. He doesn’t know how she’s drawing this conclusion from her cursory glance at the bows they’re carrying. It is also untrue. Jin is an excellent archer, and Zan himself is decent, yes, but Kazu is terrible. He does, however, make up for it by being the best melee combatant of them all, even with just a tantou.

So instead of responding, "Have you found someone suitable, my lady?" he asks, anxious. "Acting as a medium for summoning requires a rare aptitude and isn't necessarily safe, especially when the entity being summoned is as powerful as Amaterasu Oomikami."

“Oh, I'm quite aware,” she replies, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “As the last awakened female descendant of Taira no Masakado, the likelihood that I have the necessary spiritual aptitude is high. Of course, we won’t know for sure until we try, but we also don’t have the time to summon and test every woman in the capital.” She speaks as if time is the only obstacle to that particular course of action, and Kazu doesn’t doubt that summoning and testing every woman in Heian-kyo is indeed well within her power. “In any case, this aptitude you speak of is rare enough that even you are unlikely to hit any targets.” She turns to head back outside, pausing to glance back in question. “Shall we be going then? My daughter and grandson are in there.” [25]

Zan and Kazu exchange glances. Despite the regular visits of favoured Shirabyoushi, Chancellor Taira and his wife are known to be rather close, so close that they even took the tonsure together. Zan can’t imagine how the Chancellor would react if anything were to go wrong during the ritual, but he’s also quite certain people aren’t meant to argue with Taira no Tokiko. It is rumoured that she even participates in all official clan meetings in stark contrast to current social convention — most aristocratic ladies outside of court spend their lives reading, composing or calligraphing poetry and keeping up with the latest fashion trends, living in a world quite separate from that of men. They weren’t allowed to speak face-to-face to men outside their families, and even with a veil, this sudden visit is inappropriate.

“Yes,” Kazu decides reluctantly, rising to fetch the items they will need, and Zan hurries to do the same. “Let us be going.”

They follow her out of the courtyard, shutting the gates behind them, and make haste to the Imperial City with her retinue. The mist has spread beyond the gates now, and the eerie gloom has settled over the surrounding areas as well. The streets are deserted — people have either retreated to their homes, gone to pray for deliverance at any nearby temples and shrines, or are participating in whatever public prayer or ritual ceremony the Jingi-kan is conducting in response to this ordeal. The palanquin is set down before the gate, and a lady-in-waiting helps the Heike matriarch out of it. She looks different from earlier, having discarded a few layers on the way. Her robes aren’t trailing behind her anymore, and she has even traded her fine zori for a very practical pair of waraji. Zan has to admit he’s relieved — he’d just been wondering how she would traverse the cracked and waterlogged pathways inside. [26]

As she walks with them to the entrance, her guards move to follow.

“Stand down,” she commands, only half turning. “You will be of no help against what is inside. Post a guard at every entrance and make sure we are not followed.”

It's a scandal in the making, but the guards obey without question, and the trio enter together, Zan tying the roll of string to the pillar again. Visibility has, if possible, worsened over the last few days, and Zan has to admit he's really concerned all over again. For all that she seems rather sprightly, the lady _is_ going on sixty.

Still, he only draws his tachi and says, "Stay close, my lady. We are surrounded by mizuchi."

Taira no Tokiko laughs, lifting her veil to see better now that the mist is so thick. "You sure know how to make a girl quiver, Onmyounosuke."

Zan averts his eyes for propriety, but even so, can’t help sneaking a curious peek. She certainly doesn’t look sixty, but even in her younger days, she wouldn’t have been counted among the great beauties of her generation. That isn’t to say that she’s plain-looking — just more average than outstanding. If Lady Risao is any indication, she also hasn’t kept up with current trends, but with her straight black hair neatly trimmed to just below the chin and nary a dab of makeup on, Zan thinks there’s a kind of down-to-earth charm about her, not entirely unlike Kazu’s.

“Don’t worry about me. We may be aristocrats now, but the Heike are still first and foremost a clan of warriors.” She steps forward and holds out her hands. “Hand me the mirror.”

“Why?” Kazu asks before he can stop himself, careful to avoid looking directly at her face.

She smiles thinly. “Because no one else knows how to use it. That’s why these gifts of the gods are wasting away in temple vaults to weather the passing of the ages and be dusted off for the occasional ceremony. It’s been over a thousand years since a human was able to use any of the three.”

He hands her a thin disc of stone with a circular mirror inlaid, and she runs her fingertips over the unknown carvings in the frame, murmuring words that seem vaguely familiar under her breath.

Zan feels more than sees energy flow into the mirror — he hadn’t sensed anything extraordinary about it before. “What does it do?” he asks, curious.

She whirls to the right, holding it out. “This.”

A mizuchi reels back from her as if violently repelled by an invisible barrier, momentarily visible, and Kazu darts forward to finish it off with his tantou.

“Huh... “ Zan blinks, mixed respect and wonder. “Very sharp, my lady. I had no idea you could See.”

“I told you — don’t worry about me. Mask your presence. Now let’s go.”

She walks on purposefully ahead, and they hurry alongside her. Zan doesn’t doubt she knows exactly where she’s going — the Heike must see more of the Imperial City than almost anyone besides the Imperial Family these days, what with their control of the Imperial Court. There are more mizuchi now than there were before, and it’s a fight every step of the way. They’re panting by the time they reach the shrine, and Tokiko and Kazu stand guard as Zan searches the altar, repelling and cutting down mizuchi as they come.

“I have it,” he says, hurrying back to their side too many minutes later. It had been hidden in a secret panel, and only testing almost every bu of the altar allowed him to find the green gem pulsing with an unknown energy. “But we can’t perform the ritual here.” [27]

“It’s too near,” Tokiko agrees as another mizuchi bounces off the mirror’s barrier. “Orochi would notice, and we’d be interrupted.”

“We’ll have to fight our way back out then,” Kazu surmises. “Let’s go.” He leads the way this time, and they slowly make their way back to the entrance.

“If only we could use the Kusanagi,” Tokiko grumbles, “these peons would be gone in a single swipe.”

They’re quite exhausted when they reach, but Zan only suggests they return to the Abe residence to proceed with the ritual.

“No,” Tokiko answers, veil back in place. “My house is closer and warded.”

She doesn’t wait for agreement, just boards the palanquin, and Kazu and Zan only exchange glances before following the procession back to the Heike mansion. They have little choice — the Yata no Kagami is still with her. It is, however, a very short walk away, and as soon as they step across the threshold, they can no longer feel the oppressive gloom that has settled over the capital. The guards shut the gates behind them, and she indicates the large courtyard, handing the mirror back to Zan.

“Prepare the ritual, Onmyounosuke, while I purify myself. Our time grows short.”

She turns and heads into the house, again without awaiting a response, and Kazu frowns in disapproval, but Zan only pointedly looks at the bag of ritual items — they don’t have time for this, and she _is_ the Mikado’s mother-in-law. Kazu takes a deep breath, and they silently start drawing the magic circle into the sand. They set the relics in the appropriate places, and they don’t have long to wait before Tokiko reappears in white robes, still veiled, murmuring in hushed tones to a young maidservant as she walks with a biwa in hand. She waves to dismiss the girl before she descends into the courtyard, and Zan hands everything he won’t be needing for the ritual to Kazu. [28]

“I trust the preparations are complete?” she asks as she carefully steps into the centre. “Music is the primal common tongue.” She sits and holds the plectrum at the ready, and Kazu wonders why the Heike have allowed the Hakuo clan to control the Jingi-kan when they have clansmen so obviously skilled in the occult arts. “I will make this easier for you.”

“Yes, my lady,” he answers, stepping forward to the edge of the circle. “I will need to draw some of your blood for this, so pl—”

“Of course. My left forearm, if you please, for minimal inconvenience.” She chuckles, holding up her hand placatingly as some of the attendants watching gasp in horror. “It doesn’t serve any of us for them to kill me here. Do not interfere.”

They quiet down, and she begins to play as Zan begins to walk around the perimeter of the circle, reciting the ritual chant. The atmosphere changes almost instantly, energy building in the circle. Kazu has seen these rituals before, but usually, the energy only starts to build like this on the third or fourth recital. Perhaps it is indeed the music, or perhaps Orochi’s presence has disrupted the veil between planes, but this is the fastest he’s ever seen a summoning ritual take effect. Zan has noticed as well and quickly moves on to the next leg.

“Come, light of heaven,” he calls, lifting the Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi. “Come and hear our prayers.” He draws the sharp tip along Tokiko’s left forearm, leaving a thin cut that stains the blade with blood. “Come, all-seeing goddess. Come, mother of our land. I beseech you — bless us with your presence!” He kneels to plunge the holy sword into its place in the circle. “Tenshou-daijin, Amaterasu Oomikami!”

Kazu doesn’t think anyone else sees what looks like a big star fall upon Tokiko, but everyone definitely sees her drop the biwa and rise off the ground to float in midair — some of them gasp in a mix of fear and wonder, a few faint dead away. He’s sure it worked — her aura now shines gold and brilliant, like the sun. Suddenly, as if being moved by a puppeteer, Tokiko’s body repositions itself to hover upright.

“Humans,” she speaks, and it’s not Tokiko’s voice anymore. It sounds like many layers of sound at once, resonant and alien, powerful and regal as it reverberates through the courtyard. “My arrogant children who play with things beyond their ken, who remember us sincerely only in their troubles… I know why you have called to me, summoner. We left Ashihara no Nakatsukuni in your care, and look how you have corrupted it with your plunder. Tell me, why should I lend you my aid?” [29]

Without raising his head, Zan answers, “The Mikado is—”

“All that begins must have an end,” she interrupts, lifting her arms. “That which is gone will soon come again. In your midst, a new sun is rising. Your course of action will soon have no meaning.”

Although he can’t be certain what the goddess is referring to, Zan can only think of Jin. “Please…” He lowers his head to the ground. They’re out of time and options. He doesn’t beseech her to save his brother — he can’t. To be heard prioritizing another over the Imperial Family in this crisis is high treason — even if he rescued Jin in time, they would be executed.

But she knows, of course, and she floats closer. “Very well. I will help you.”

He almost looks up to ask, “Really?”

“But everything has a price, and humans must pay for their folly,” Amaterasu continues calmly. “What price would you pay, summoner?”

He doesn’t have to think about it. For his brother, “Anything.” Jin would have said the same.

The goddess laughs, the sound at once familiar and alien. “Consider it done then.” Out of the sleeves of her robes, she pulls a greenish gold arrow. “This is an arrow made with Kushinada’s hair. Shoot it at Orochi, and when my brother senses his wife’s presence near the serpent, he will descend, and nothing shall forestall his wrath.”

Zan accepts the arrow with both hands above his head, keeping his eyes down. “Thank you.”

The sound she makes seems at once a scoff and a bitter chuckle, and then she’s gone, Tokiko falling bonelessly to the ground like a puppet with all its strings abruptly cut. The air pressure seems to lighten, and it’s as if everyone held their breath before to start breathing again now. Zan longs to rush to the Palace right this instant, but from the grim, expectant looks on the crowd’s faces, he doesn’t think he’ll be allowed to leave until they’re sure their lady is alive and well. Zan can’t be sure either though, and he’s glad Kazu comes to stand by his side, offering silent strength and support. If she’s dead, he’s sure their time will soon follow.

Maybe they’ll be allowed to save the Son of Heaven and receive Imperial pardon.

That’s assuming the Mikado hasn’t already been devoured, of course.

Just then, she sits up abruptly with a loud gasp. She signals for assistance, and the servants and ladies in waiting are immediately spurred into action. Two come to help her up, one rushes to bring her water, and two others to help her don another three layers of silk robes, light blue, pale purple and crimson this time.

“What are you waiting for?” she asks as soon as she’s downed the first cup of water, and it is obvious she is addressing them.

That is all the permission they need, and they turn to the gate as the guards begin to open them. She picks up the green jewel and the sword and waves the other ladies away as she walks to the gate.

“I will create a distraction with the Kusanagi. Orochi swallowed it because it believes the sword belongs rightfully to it, so it will head towards me to reclaim it. You must take the opportunity to shoot the arrow from behind it and evacuate the survivors.”

Zan glances at her in disbelief as they hurry back to the Imperial City. “The Kusanagi?” Legend has it the sword could control the wind. Used right, it could level the entire capital in one swipe.

“Well, I’m not Yamato Takeru. Even with the Magatama, I won’t be able to affect the physical plane very much.” They have arrived now, and Tokiko steps forward, sword in hand. “The mizuchi, however, will harry you no longer.” She raises the sword. “Now go.” [30]

They start running — now that they have the solution, they can’t afford to waste any more time. Pure instinct makes them duck and roll forward under the wave of energy that slices by overhead, but when they get back on their feet, the mist is clearing. A deep rumble reverberates through the ground then, and they resume running as it shifts heavily towards the entrance. With the mist gone, the afternoon sky is clear and bright, and when they reach the Imperial Residence, they see Orochi already in the courtyard, every shift of its massive weight sending a rumble through the earth as it slithers slowly towards where Tokiko is waiting.

“Get everyone out,” he whispers to Kazu as he unstraps his bow and gets his sleeve out of the way, not needing to check if the other will do it. He gets into position atop the steps and nocks the arrow given by Amaterasu, taking aim. He just needs to hit Orochi anywhere on its body. It’s slow. He can’t miss, surely. Behind him, he hears many sets of running footsteps — the survivors are here.

He lets the arrow fly.

All eight heads whip around to face him with a loud hiss as it barely nicks the serpent’s back.

“You!!”

 _Shit._ It occurs to Zan then, as Orochi changes course to move towards him instead, that he should have had a back-up plan for if this didn’t work.

Just then, there’s a loud clap of thunder.

He looks up to see storm clouds gathering above them in the quickly darkening sky. The winds pick up, swirling violently — a tempest is coming.

Orochi’s eight heads dart up with a hiss of excitement. “Sssusssano-o!!!”

Familiar hands are grabbing him then and hauling him away with them even as another loud crash of thunder resounds, and a bolt of lightning strikes the courtyard in a blinding flash.

“Jin! Kazu!” He scrambles to keep up, grips his brother’s arm more tightly — he’s so relieved to see Jin safe, he can barely concentrate on running instead of trying to make sure it’s real.

When they make it out, Taira clansmen are ushering the Imperial Family and other nobles towards their home. Some of the aristocracy with nearby residences or relatives hurry away to those houses, and Zan, Jin and Kazu don’t stop running till they’re halfway to theirs. They turn at another deafening clap of thunder to see a tempest swirling fiercely in the Imperial City, lightning flashing angrily amidst the violent winds.

“Wow.”

Kazu is the first to break the silence, and Zan laces their fingers, grateful for the continuous support.

“Yeah.” Jin is looking on in fascination. “Was it like this the last time?”

“No, the lore says Susano-o got Orochi wasted on eight barrels of sake before chopping all the heads and tails off,” Zan answers grimly. If only this had been so easy.

“Huh. I almost can’t believe we’re getting more fireworks than the legends. Speaking of,” Jin glances sideways. “What kept you, Sanmaru? If that dirt-crawler hadn’t gorged itself on the way in, I’d have been next after the Mikado’s cousins for sure.”

Zan doesn’t check to see if the Look Kazu is levelling his brother is as withering as his own. “Oh, no, we should definitely have charged right in without a plan like you and gotten captured as well,” he says instead, pointedly ignoring the fact that only Kazu has kept him from doing just that.

Jin, wisely for a change, drops the subject. “We should report to Lord Jingi-haku.”

“Michiage can wait,” Kazu replies firmly with an annoyed grimace. “Let’s head back.”

“Yeah!” Jin stretches, joints popping as they resume walking. “Nothing like a good dinner, a hot bath and some shunga. Only thing missing is Risao’s magic fingers.” [31]

Zan rolls his eyes, pulling Kazu closer. “I’m sure you’ll find her waiting when you get back.”

Spring is slowly waning into summer once again by the time they manage to get the dispensation to go on vacation. Following the events of the previous summer, there had been so much work to do. If even possible, the stint with Orochi and Susano-o had brought belief in the occult to an all-time high, and the Department of Onmyou was busier than it had ever been as even the least superstitious among the citizens of Heian-kyo flocked to seek advice on the supernatural implications of any and all undertakings. Only Jin finally marrying Lady Risao passed as justification enough for a reprieve, and even then, Lord Jingi-haku wouldn’t let them leave until they had completed all foreseeable tasks for the two months they’d be away.

In any case, word on the street says the political bubble will soon burst, so there is no time like the present to escape the capital, especially if one happens to belong to the Heike’s primary political rivals. As Zan loads their belongings into the cart, he hopes they will make it out before the Taira send people after Kazu. It’s a waste of life dying for only nominally being part of a clan that disowned you as a toddler just for looking a little different.

“I wonder what is the price of Amaterasu’s assistance,” he muses aloud as he climbs onto the cart himself, careful not to be overheard by Jin and Risao in the other cart. He had expected to lose something precious almost immediately, but almost a year had passed without incident.

“Will you not?” Kazu asks just as quietly as they depart. “Further contemplation will bring us no closer to an answer. Let us enjoy this time of rest without worry.”

“Yeah,” Zan sighs, winding an arm around Kazu’s waist to pull him close. “It’s not the ideal time we planned for, but the spring flowers should still be in bloom.”

“Mm,” Kazu agrees, closing his eyes and resting his head on Zan’s shoulder, letting the rhythmic clop-clop-clop of the ox plodding along the path lull him into some long overdue relaxation. Perhaps at Byoudou-in they would finally have some peace.

**Notes:**

[1] - Juban = undergarment for traditional Japanese clothing

[2] - Jingi-kan = Department of Divinities. Jingi-haku = the title of head of the Jingi-kan. Hoeki no hou = the principal (outermost) garment of official court attire for civil officials.

[3] - Kosode = The first (bottommost) of many (depending on rank and occasion) layers of clothing worn during the period. Hakama = a pleated skirt worn like baggy pants. Noushi = outermost garment worn on informal occasions including at home. Eboshi = black silk cap worn by the aristocracy of the time with their hair pinned up under it. Beginning of the hour of the Tiger = circa 3am. They used the Chinese Zodiac animals to tell time back in the day.

[4] - Gengoi Nyuudou is Castiel’s title. Gen signifies he’s of the Genji (Minamoto) Clan, go-i is the Fifth Rank, and Nyuudou literally means “to enter the Way,” indicating lay monkhood. Onmyounosuke is Sam’s title, signifying he is the assistant to the court’s head onmyouji (practitioner of onmyoudo; magician, diviner, occultist, probably the closest thing to a hunter in those days). Abe is the name of a clan as well, and possibly the most famous onmyouji who ever lived is Abe no Seimei, implied here to be Sam and Dean’s ancestor. Mikado is another word referring to the Emperor.

[5] - Onmyounokami = Dean’s title, Head Onmyouji of the Imperial Court

[6] - Respectively between 5am to 7am and between 9am to 11am

[7] - Shaku = Japanese unit of measure equal to 30.3 centimetres or 11.93 inches

[8] - Shouji = a door, window or room divider made of paper and wood and/or bamboo. Song Empire refers to China; Song was the ruling dynasty at the time.

[9] - Ofuda = paper/cloth charms, usually with spells/prayers written on them. Tantou = Japanese dagger.

[10] - The Imperial Family of Japan is said to be descended from Amaterasu Oomikami, the Shinto sun goddess, on one side and Susano-o no Mikoto, the Shinto storm god, on the other. Yomi is the underworld in Shinto myth. The entrance to Yomi is called Yomotsu Hirasaka. Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi and Susano-o were born when Izanagi cleansed himself after he returned from Yomi. Thus, the birthplace of Susano-o would theoretically be the nearest body of clean water to Yomotsu Hirasaka.

[11] - Abe no Seimei’s mother is rumoured to be a fox spirit. That means Sam and Dean, as his descendants, have non-human blood. The eight sisters refers to Kushinada-hime and her seven sisters who were devoured by Orochi before Susano-o arrived. He saw their parents lamenting that Kushinada would be next and slew Orochi, rescuing her, in exchange for her hand in marriage.

[12] - Hour of the Horse is ending = almost 1pm

[13] - Kingdom of Goryeo = Korea. Goryeo was the ruling dynasty at the time.

[14] - Shuusai = highest level civil service examination. By this time, the examination system was mostly defunct, and court appointments were almost solely based on hereditary rank. Even back when the exams really mattered, however, the highly ranked aristocracy usually found the exams required too much effort for limited reward, given their noble birth already guaranteed a high rank.

[15] - Kojiki = a chronicle of Shinto Japanese creation myth

[16] - Takamagahara = the heavenly domain in Shinto myth

[17] - Genpuku = coming-of-age ceremony

[18] - Shirabyoushi = female dancers who performed in men’s attire, the prototype of the later geisha

[19] - Roei = a form of court music that was going out of fashion at the time. Imayo = modern songs of the time. Basically, Dean only likes classic rock, but Lisa is a pop singer.

[20] - Tenshou-daijin = the Japanese name of Mahavairocana to whom Amaterasu was equated; also the on reading of the kanji for Amaterasu Oomikami

[21] - Chigaeshi no Ookami = the boulder that blocks the way into Yomi at Yomotsu Hirasaka

[22] - The Way, as in of the Buddha i.e. Buddhist monkhood

[23] - Pure Land = a paradise outside the cycle of karmic reincarnation where one can more easily attain perfect peace and enlightenment under the tutelage of its governing Buddha. You could get a better explanation by looking up Pure Land Buddhism, but the allegory is that Cas is headed for Heaven while Sam is going to Sheol (not as in Hell, but a more neutral Underworld).

[24] - Sanmaru is used as the equivalent of Sammy. “Maru” is a suffix, usually for childhood names, denoting affection, a bit like “dear.”

[25] - Taira no Masakado famously led a rebellion against the central government. In a mix of awe and fear, the people enshrined him as a demigod. After he was killed, his severed head is said to have flown from Kyoto to Tokyo unassisted, and his daughter is said to have been a skilled sorceress. For reference, Taira and Heike/Heishi are different readings of the same clan name. Same goes for Genji and Minamoto.

[26] - Zori = the “slippers” you wear with formal dress; waraji = straw sandals

[27] - Bu = Japanese unit of measure approximately equivalent to 3.03 millimetres or 0.1193 inches

[28] - Biwa = traditional Japanese lute played with a plectrum, the chosen instrument of Benzaiten, the goddess of everything that flows: water, words, speech, eloquence, music and, by extension, knowledge.

[29] - Ashihara no Nakatsukuni = the middle country of reed beds i.e. Earth, the human world, Japan

[30] - Yamato Takeru = a legendary prince who last used the Ame no Murakumo no Tsurugi against his enemies and gave it the name Kusanagi no Tsurugi after it helped him to escape their trap.

[31] - Shunga = Japanese erotic art

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading what may well be my final work in this fandom. I appreciate any and all feedback. ♥
> 
> While I researched the time period to the best of my ability, I forewent some subtleties for better flow in English and to avoid adding further to the already very long list of footnotes. In addition, I did not manage to get it checked for period accuracy as I originally wished, so do let me know if you spot any glaring inaccuracies.
> 
> For those who are still wondering what Amaterasu's price was, she changed their fate. While they are at Byoudou-in Temple, they will be caught up in the first Battle of Uji. No one will survive. Any escapees will be pursued and killed. If they had been able to go in the fall of the previous year as they had originally intended, they would have lived much longer lives.


End file.
